The Last Dance
by Eagle2
Summary: He called fighter planes 'angels.' But when Gracemaria was invaded, Captain Luke Herman discovered that sometimes, even angels can fall.


Captain Luke 'Rapier' Herman returned a guard's salute and drove into Gracemeria Air Force Base. It was a beautiful morning, the sun burning in a crystal blue sky. From what his CO said on the phone earlier, he might actually get to fly today! He smiled and sat up straighter in the driver's seat.

Stepping out of the car, Luke watched a pair of F-15's scream down the runway. The roar of their mighty engines shook the ground under his feet and he took a moment to listen to his favorite sound in the world…okay, his _second_ favorite sound after Melissa's voice. _Go dance with the angels, fellahs_.

The crew room of the 20th Tactical Fighter Squadron, known as Cerberus, was in its usual state of disarray when he entered; some pilots played arcade video games or cards, watched TV or just loafed on the couches doing nothing. Aerial warriors at rest but poised to explode into action at a moment's notice.

"Morning skipper!" Luke's wingman, Lieutenant Michael 'Stinger' Anders said from his place on an overstuffed couch. A short, skinny kid of 22 he was already a hot hand in the squadron's F/A-18E Super Hornets.

"Stinger, working hard I see," Luke remarked. The younger pilot stretched out on the couch. He had a well-earned reputation for laziness.

"I'm allergic to work," Stinger said.

"Lieutenant, avoiding work is a lot harder than actually working," Luke said with a smile. They had this conversation at least once a week.

"You sound like my mother," Stinger laughed. "But seriously, I hear we might fly today?" Assignment to the Capitol Defense Force was considered one of the most boring in the Air Force, with no action and little flying time. Luke nodded.

"Roger that, so don't get too comfortable, we're wheels up at 1200." Anders' brightened at the news and sat up on the couch. Luke walked away just as his cellphone rang. He opened it and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hi Daddy!" the voice of his 11 year old daughter Matilda exclaimed, even more chipper than usual. She was the spitting image of her Mom: golden-blond hair and intelligent blue eyes. Her boundless energy came from her father.

"There's my girl! You ready for today?" Luke asked. Matilda's school field trip to the Castle was today, she had been unable to talk about anything else all week.

"Yep, this is gonna be so much fun! I can't wait!"

"Make sure to say hi to the Golden King for me, okay?" His little girl laughed again, she was a real sweet kid and Luke knew she would do him proud one day.

"Sure, are you going to fly today?"

"Keep an eye on the sky, I might buzz the Castle just for you," Luke quipped.

"Go dance with the angels, Daddy!" Matilda said. His habit of calling fighter jets 'angels' led to this little saying between him and Melissa, their daughter had picked it up and made it her own. When he strapped on a plane and rocketed into the sky, he really did fly like an angel.

"Two to tango, sweetheart," he said and hung up. _She should be getting to the Castle the same time I take off_; dancing with angels indeed.

An hour later, Luke stood in Hangar No.7 admiring his personal F/A-18E Super Hornet, one of the most advanced fighter jets in the Emmerian Air Force arsenal. Sleek and graceful but packed with deadly venom, like her insect namesake. He ran a hand over the name 'Melissa' on her nose above a cartoon of his wife in a red dress and sporting white angel wings. _My guardian angel, I'd never fly without her_.

"Captain Herman!" a familiar voice called out. Luke turned to see Lt. Colonel Nathan 'Talisman' West, Gracemeria AFB's resident ace, standing behind him. The tall, silver haired officer wore dark aviators and a smile on his face.

"Good morning, sir!" Luke saluted and West returned it. "What brings Fearless Leader down among us lowly pilots?"

"I'm taking up your FNG today; you haven't seen Lieutenant Lampert have you?" Talisman said.

"Shamrock?" Luke replied. "Saw him at Preflight a half hour ago; I swear that guy never shuts up! Kept talking about his kid's birthday party," West laughed and checked his watch.

"Less talking more flying, thank you Captain, I'll see you skyside." Luke went to climb into his cockpit when a high pitched whistling sound filled the air, getting louder and louder by the second.

A massive explosion shattered the quiet afternoon air like the hammer of God. Luke was slammed to the ground, ears ringing. He smelled smoke. Shouting voices filled the air. Then another explosion; and another!

"INCOMING! INCOMING!" a Tech Sergeant hollered. Dazed, Luke picked himself up and ran outside. What he saw horrified him. Fighter jets streaked low overhead, dropping bombs. Great sheets of fire billowed from a line of KC-135 tanker planes parked along the tarmac.

"They're attacking the city!" Talisman shouted. Luke turned and looked west, across the bridge to Gracemeria itself. Columns of black smoke and fire poured into the sky. He could seem more fighter planes circling overhead and hear distant explosions. _Oh my God_! _Melissa_!

He looked again at the attacking planes but could make out no insignia. The jets were going too fast. Luke's blood burned with hate and anger. Whoever they were, they needed to be stopped. Sirens howled to life all over the base.

"_Scramble! Scramble! All planes take off at once! This is not a drill! This is not a drill_!" the base loudspeaker bellowed like a vengeful demigod. Luke and Talisman looked at each other and split for their planes. Anders and the rest of Cerberus flight burst through the side doors at the same moment, eyes wide.

"Get 'em up!" Luke hollered. "Move it!" he raced up the ladder into his own cockpit, yanking on his helmet as he went. His fingers flew over the switches, bringing the Super Hornet to life. The canopy swung shut and the twin turbofan engines whined to life. He glanced down at a picture of Melissa and Matilda taped to his instrument panel. _Please, let them be all right_!

"_They took out King's Bridge_!" an agitated voice shouted over the squadron's com channel.

"_Who's attacking? What the hell is going on_?"

"_I want a damage assessment now_!"

"_We've taken extensive damage from those bombers including a number of civilian casualties_!"

"_What's going on with those bombers_?_ We can't hold out much longer!_"

His F/A-18E lined up on the runway, Luke forced his hands to stop shaking. This was only the second time in his Air Force career that he faced live fire. The first was years ago as a rookie pilot when a pair of Estovakian F-5s crossed Emmeria's eastern Defense Zone. It had been over in a matter of seconds: he shot one bandit down with an AMRAAM and the second fled. Luke never actually saw his opponent. It had been clean and bloodless, a video game.

"_Cerberus Team, runway access granted_, _takeoff when ready_! _All aircraft under Airborne Command's jurisdiction following takeoff! This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill_!" Luke didn't bother to reply as he firewalled his twin throttles and followed Garuda Team into the blue afternoon sky.

Over the city in a matter of seconds, Luke stared down in horror at the destruction. All of Gracemeria was under attack, wreathed in smoke and fires. The beautiful King's Bridge had taken a direct hit and the center span was lying in the water like wet pasta. A horrible realization struck him like a punch to his stomach. _Oh my God, Matilda was supposed to…no! She has to still be alive! She _has_ too_!

Luke reached for the cellphone in his flightsuit pocket, wanting nothing more than to call Melissa, hear her voice and know she and Matilda were safe. _Stop that! You're a fighter pilot, do your damned job! It's what they need you to do_!

"_Airborne Warning and Control System Ghost Eye to all scrambling defense craft, the situation has not yet been ascertained, we must implement an emergency reformation. Follow your individual instructions_," the ice-calm voice of the command plane crackled over Luke's headset. The pilot snapped his oxygen mask over his face. It was time for a real dance with the angels!

"Cerberus Flight, break and engage!" Luke ordered. "Let's send whoever it is home with their tails between their legs!"

"2!"

"3!"

Luke snapped his Hornet into a dive, aiming for a flight of ancient B-52 bombers lumbering over downtown. He hit a switch on his stick to arm his missiles. Achieving lock-on with an AIM-9 Sidewinder, Luke tapped the red pickle button. The missile streaked directly towards the enemy bomber and exploded off its right wing. The bomber burst into flames and dropped out of the sky.

"Cerberus 1, kill one!" he exclaimed. All around him the battle was engaged; contrails traced an intricate and dizzying spider's web across the sky, missiles trails, tracer rounds and explosions. Frantic, terse voices filled the radio net.

"God almighty, they're destroying our entire city!" Anders shouted.

"2, head in the game, the sooner we shoot these bastards down the more lives we save," Luke reminded him. _Who're you fooling, Captain_? He couldn't get Melissa's face out of his mind. She was scared, terrified. From up here Luke couldn't pick out their actual house but the neighborhood was smoking as well. _Damn it_!

"Lead, bandit on your 6!" Luke snapped his head around as the missile lock tone blared to see an enemy plane closing on him, an F-16. It loosed a missile! On pure instinct, the veteran pilot yanked back on his stick, standing the Super Hornet on its tail. G-forces crushed him into the seat. He breathed hard.

At a precise moment, Luke chopped back his throttle to zero. His jet hung in the sky like it was on strings. His prey zoomed past. The pilot dropped his nose and throttled up, now on the other plane's tail. Another Sidewinder blew him out of the sky.

"_We have positive ID on the invaders, we're currently engaged with the Estovakian military_," Ghost Eye declared. Luke's blood ran cold. The Stovies were cruel bastards, ruthless to civilians. _Melissa! Matilda!_

"_Their economy's been in shambles for years, looks like they finally snapped_!" a pilot remarked. Luke forced himself to put his family out of his mind. They would die a lot faster is he didn't do his job.

"Team, let's have another go at those bombers, leave the fighters to Garuda!" Luke ordered. With his pilots on his wings, he barrel rolled onto the heavy bombers' tails. At his shouted order a wave of missiles tracked on the bombers and destroyed them. _Fish in a barrel_!

"_Ghost Eye to all planes, the Estovakian force is significantly weakened, drive them out of Emmeria_!" Luke looked around to see most of the heavy bombers had been shot down and his fellow pilots still engaged the remaining enemy fighters. _This doesn't feel right! It's too easy_! Why send such a weak attack force?

"Cerberus Flight, regroup! Regroup!" Luke rolled his F/A-18E upright, sweat pouring down his sides and back. His hands shook on the controls. Something was wrong here! _But what damn it_?

"_What's this…missiles_?" Massive balls of fire lit up the embattled sky like a cauldron of fire! Screaming filled the radio net. Luke fought to stabilize his plane amidst the violent turbulence. Suddenly there was another burst! And another! _Now what the hell_? _Some secret weapon_?

"I'm hit!" Anders screamed. "It's flying apart-!" His gut-wrenching scream dissolved into static and Luke watched with sickening horror as the young pilot's Hornet burst into flames.

"Stinger, come in! Stinger!" Luke cried. Never before had he ever lost a pilot.

"He's gone boss, what are these things?" Cerberus 3 said. Just like that Lieutenant Michael Anders, the laziest pilot in 20th Squadron was dead! _So this is war_? _I hate it_!

"_Warning, additional planes have been spotted on radar! You _don't_ want to know how many_!" Ghost Eye reported. Luke's radar screen filled up with a wing of unidentified planes from the west.

"I got 'em, bandits at 11 o'clock high!" Cerberus 3 declared. Luke barely had time to ID them as Sukhoi-33 Flankers before the bandits were on them, weaving and slicing through the Emmerian formations like they were sitting still.

Luke looped his Super Hornet around and locked up an SU-33, loosing his last Sidewinder. The enemy ace pulled a crushing high-g Split-S, leaving the missile in his dust! _Shit, must be Stovie aces_!

"I- I can't shake him!" Number 3 screamed seconds before a Stovie missile slammed into his left wing root. The jet exploded in a red-black fireball. Luke saw no chute. Both his pilots were dead! Panic screamed in his mind but he forced it back with a fighter pilot's iron discipline. He could freak out later.

"_This is Ghost Eye to all planes; air defense command has ordered an evacuation. You've been ordered to give up Gracemeria_, _break away from this airspace and head west_!" Ghost Eye's order slammed into Luke's ears like a bass drum next to his head. The situation was grave but…_we can't just leave! Melissa, I can't just leave you_, _what kind of angel abandons his charges_?

"_You've gotta be nuts, we can't comply with that order_!" a pilot said, stealing the words from Luke's throat.

"_Listen, it's only temporary, plan is to withdraw, meet up with all surviving forces from each area and organize a counteroffensive! Comply with the order_!" Ghost Eye's tone was final. No arguments would be tolerated. Luke's hands acted of their own accord, turning on a westerly heading. He stared down at the burning city, down at his wife and daughter. _I'm sorry Melissa_!

Below his plane the city gave way to rolling hills. The fuel readout on his HUD was getting dangerously low. Luke dug out his cellphone, unhooking his oxygen mask. _I have to call her; I have to know_… his finger just tapped Melissa's number when the missile lock tone screamed in his ears. "Shit!"

Reattaching his mask, Luke slammed the stick to the left and back as far as it would go. The alarm got louder and louder. He glanced back and saw another SU-33 dead on his tail! He rolled over and dove but the ace pilot was right there. Like a demon. _Who is this guy_?

Suddenly a bone-jarring explosion slammed him forward in his seat. The Hornet shuddered like a wounded animal, all his readouts going haywire. The stick went loose in his hands! Smoke and fire poured in the cockpit. He could barely see. Alarms screamed in his ears. He fought the dead stick as his broken angel plummeted out of the sky.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday, Cerberus 1 is hit, I'm going down, I'm going down!" Luke shouted into his oxygen mask, "Damn it, I gotta punch out!" Struggling against the g-forces pinning him in his seat, Luke's hands wrapped around the yellow and black striped ejection handles. He took a deep breath and pulled…

…Nothing happened! Panic swelled in his chest as he pulled again, still nothing. The ground rushed up to meet him like a massive metal hammer. _This is what it feels like to die_! In his heart, Luke always wanted to go out like this, protecting his wife and daughter from an attacker. Like a real guardian angel.

He could make a red-painted iron bridge below him. Luke refused to close his eyes, staring grimly at the ground. A few more seconds. This was the last dance.

"I love you Melissa…" those were his last words before everything went black.


End file.
